all the time.’
‘Including you and your family.’
‘I’m actually an elder of the church. For the last two years, it’s been my job.’
‘You mean Gareth is your boss?’
He shook his head, smiling. ‘God is. But he directs me in his purposes through Gareth a lot of the time. You know, you should come along to see us worship. Share in God’s grace with us.’
I smiled politely and referred to my notes. ‘So you think it was Friday when you saw Kate. What was she doing?’
‘Just standing in the window. Looking out.’
‘Waiting for someone?’
‘It’s a safe bet,’ Norris said evenly.
‘What does that mean?’
‘Chloe spends one week in six with her dad. When she was there or otherwise engaged, Kate sometimes had … visitors.’
‘What sort of visitors?’
‘Men.’
I nodded as if I was unsurprised, as if I’d known about it already. And in fact I wasn’t all that surprised. She was a single mother, after all, and forty-two according to Una Burt. She was entitled to a private life, whatever the neighbours thought. ‘When you say men, did they visit her in groups or one at a time?’
‘One at a time, as far as I could tell.’ He gave a forced, awkward laugh. ‘I don’t think she was into anything as kinky as group sex, but you never know. It’s outside my experience.’
No wonder you couldn’t wait to go round and fix her dripping tap.
‘Did you notice the same men visiting her more than once? The same cars?’
‘I didn’t notice.’ He pulled a face. ‘I didn’t like it. Dating is one thing but that sort of activity in front of everyone, in her own home – it felt sordid.’
‘Did you ever talk to her about it?’
‘I tried. I invited her to come to our church. I thought she might find what she was looking for there.’ He gave me a twitchy smile. ‘It didn’t go too well.’
I flipped over a page on my clipboard with a snap. ‘Were you here all weekend, Mr Norris?’
‘Yeah. I did a lot of gardening.’ He held up his hands, which were scratched. ‘Some of the bushes fought back. Morgan helped me, he can tell you about it.’
‘What did you do with the clippings?’
He frowned. ‘Took them to the dump. That’s what I was doing when I came back and saw Chloe at the station.’
‘I’m going to need your car keys and permission to search your car.’
‘I don’t see why. I mean, I don’t think that’s appropriate.’
I looked at him, eyebrows raised, and waited.
‘You can look. I’m not trying to hide anything.’ He laughed. ‘I don’t know why you’d want to, that’s all.’
‘Just routine,’ I said. ‘Did you notice anything unusual over the weekend? Any strange visitors to the street, any unexpected noises …’ I trailed off. He was shaking his head.
‘I mean, I’ve been racking my brains ever since I went over to Kate’s house. Did I hear a scream? I really don’t think so. Did I see anyone strange? Again, no. Did I have any concerns about anything? Not in the least.’
If he was going to interview himself, that was going to save me doing a lot of talking. I made a meaningless scrawl on the page in front of me. ‘Is there anything you think I should know about Kate Emery or Chloe or anyone else?’
He blew out a lungful of air. ‘Well. There is one thing. I feel a bit bad even mentioning it but I think I should. For everyone’s sake. I know I’m not the only one to be thinking about it and if you don’t hear about him from me, it’ll be someone else who tells you sooner or later.’
I nodded, making my very understanding listening face. Get on with it and stop justifying whatever it is you’re about to say, you horrible man.
‘There’s a lad. A young lad. He must be … oh, twenty. Twenty-one. Something like that. He lives down the road. Number six. His name’s William Turner.’
I waited for him to go on.
‘He was in trouble with the police a few years ago. Four years ago, it must have been, because it was shortly after we moved in. He was arrested for attempted murder.’
‘Arrested? Was he charged?’
‘No. I don’t know why.’
‘Who was the victim?’
‘A friend of his.’ Norris laughed. ‘Some friend. He stabbed him.’
‘What happened?’ Georgia asked, her eyes wide.
‘It was a fight after school one day.’ Norris shook his head sorrowfully. ‘Everyone knew he’d done it but they couldn’t prove it.’
‘Didn’t the victim give evidence?’ I asked, puzzled.
‘He wouldn’t talk. Wouldn’t say a word. His family moved not long after. I don’t blame them. We talked about it, but we couldn’t afford to move twice in such a short space of time.’ He shuddered. ‘Not what you want to hear about, is it? Not when you’ve got an eleven-year-old and you’re worried she’ll be hang- ing around on street corners in a few years. But Bethany’s not like that, thank God. We’ve been pretty strict with her. She knows the rules and she knows not to break them.’
‘So, to be clear,’ I said slowly, ‘you think I should focus on William Turner because he was once involved in a stabbing.’
‘Not just that. The kid is weird, let me tell you. He hangs around all the time. No job, obviously. It’s no surprise. I wouldn’t employ him. He has no education and no work ethic.’ Norris leaned forward, dropping his voice, absolutely earnest. ‘I’ve read about psychopaths and, if you ask me, he’s a textbook case. It’s one per cent of the population, you know. One in a hundred. That’s a lot. There’s more than a hundred people living in this street and I’m confident I’ve worked out who ours is.’
‘OK,’ I said. ‘Thanks for letting me know.’
‘He watches the girls.’ Norris shook his head, disapproving. ‘I’ve seen him. He sits on his garden wall and he watches them walking up and down the road. Talks to them, sometimes. Calls out, you know. Gets them into conversation. I’ve warned Bethany to stay well away from him. Chloe too. She doesn’t have the common sense to keep her distance. Not when he’s a good-looking lad, which there’s no denying he is. He knows it, too.’
‘You seem to spend a lot of time thinking about Chloe,’ I observed. ‘You know her
